


Perpendicular Lines

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Awkwardness, Humor, M/M, Math Kink, Misunderstandings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 02:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/498532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which junior Sam Winchester is oblivious, quick to make assumptions, and an awful tutor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perpendicular Lines

Sam Winchester's ass is sore and the minutes are going by like a child waiting for a dentist appointment to end: torturous and slow.

He lifts his head from the desk with the least amount of effort he can get away with and looks at the clock hanging on the wall beside him. It says 3:49 pm in bright, obnoxious red. He drops his head back with an annoyed huff. It's been at least an hour and half since he's supposed to meet up with—he gives a sideway glance at his open planner:  _Gabriel Eliot_ —Gabriel and tutor him. Sam will admit that he can be a patient man, but this?  _This_ is really wearing him thin.

And all for the National Honor Society. Sam is starting to question his judgment when it comes to trusting Mr. Shurley's words. It's an open secret that the NHS supervisor is an English teacher by day and an alcoholic by night. Going along with Mr. Shurley's insistence that "Sam, you'd be a great teacher"? Bad move, Sam Winchester, bad move.

Sam isn't sure how much longer he can wait before he goes crazy, take off all his clothes, and run headlong into the bookcases hoping for a death by book suffocation. That thought gives Sam some pause. He's not quite sure where that came from. His eyes go wide. Oh god, maybe he is going crazy.

He's going through a quick list of signs and symptoms of a panic attack when he feels a nudge on his shoulder. Maybe the librarians are finally getting sick of him emoting by himself since 2:00 pm and want to throw him out. That the old one wearing cat-eye glasses and an eye-searing colored lipstick had been giving him the evil eye for a straight half-hour. He turns to look, ready to tell the librarians that he's leaving, and,

_Oh, he's cute_.

Slick blond hair. Bright brown eyes. An even brighter smile with just the slightest hint of mischief. He's also short.  _Fun-sized_ , Sam supplies himself. He can get with that.

But he's probably not gay.

Being one of the few (read: ten) kids in his school who are out, Sam has met with every potential boyfriend material and found his healthy teenage libido dying a slow death. The orientation compatibility is there; the more important interest—more like repulsion in some cases—isn't. Still, Sam is holding onto the hope that there are kids in his school who haven't gotten out of the closet. He's still waiting to get lucky.

The guy holds out his hand. "Sam Winchester?"

Sam uncurls himself to shake the guy's hand. It's warm and small and sure, and it leaves his hand tingling when they part. "Gabriel Eliot?"

Gabriel's smile widens. "Got it."

Sam smiles back, tight and forced. "You're late."

"Had things to do," Gabriel waggles his eyebrows and Sam's prude alert goes off— _Danger! Danger! Pervert! Pervert!_ "If you know what I mean." Sam's lips thin. Gabriel's smile turns into a smirk.

Gabriel takes a seat next to Sam with much pomp and circumstance, and Sam is starting to reevaluate his first impression of the guy. Maybe that hint of mischief in his smile is a foreshadowing of major asshole. Gabriel puts his feet up, his hands behind his head, and a lollipop in his mouth. He's the picture of nonchalance and hypothetical douchebagerry.

"So when are we going to start with the learning, teach?" Gabriel asks. The light from the window behind them streams just right so it's bouncing off Gabriel's hair and makes it glow like it's illuminated by a halo. His eyes aren't brown; they're _gold_. The smile has lost much of its portentous hint and is soft and inviting.

Sam has to tell his heart to shut up.

 

* * *

 

**Hypothesis:** Gabriel Eliot is a responsible student looking to learn more about the French language.

"Where's your stuff?"

"What?"

"Your textbooks? Notes? Homework? Pencil? Paper?"

Gabriel stares at him with a blank look on his face. "But you're just teaching me, right?"

"I  _am_ teaching you, but I can't teach if I don't know what you're currently studying. I need your stuff."

"Oh." Understanding dawns on Gabriel's face and Sam complains to himself that stupidity shouldn't be this adorable to look at. " _Oh_. My bag's in the trunk of my car."

Sam glances at the clock: 3:55. If he has stayed here more than an hour and a half, he can wait a little longer. "You can go get your stuff."

Gabriel's face scrunches up like he has just eaten a lemon. "I parked really far back."

Sam makes a bitchface right at him. "I can wait."

"Can't I just tell you what we're learning right now? I can remember it."

"Fine. Shoot."

It's like watching a kid trying to explain a lie. The gears in Gabriel's mind are obviously working hard to supply back-up to his even more obvious false statement. It seems to have latched onto something because Gabriel brightens up. "Verb tenses. Something about the subject and the… perfect?"

Sam stares at Gabriel. "Go get your bag."

Gabriel's face falls. He gets up grumbling under his breath and walks out of the library.

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to hypothesis:** Gabriel Eliot is a student looking to learn more about the French language.

Sam looks through Gabriel's notebook. It's worn and some of the pages are falling off. It's filled to the brim. With doodles, doodles on top of older doodles, and conversations. Sam has noted an odd predilection towards drawing moustaches and stick figures in obscene situations. The notebook is missing the most important thing though: French notes.

Sam looks up at Gabriel. The guy is looking at his half-eaten candy bar like it's transmitting religious revelations right into his head. The tongue peeking out of the side of his mouth is an endearing touch though. Sam curses his interest.

He clears his throat to get the guy's attention and Gabriel ends up looking so flustered, wisps of his hair disturbed and falling into his face, eyes round like a deer, and  _oh, fuck, fuck, fuck_. Sam steels himself. He tells himself to be professional and Gabriel is probably straight and has a hot girlfriend and Sam never had a chance in the first place and he'll be alone forever— He ends up more depressed than composed.

Sam forces himself to smile. "You don't have anything in your notebook."

Gabriel looks sheepish and apologetic. "Oh. I'm not very good at taking notes."

_No shit, Sherlock._

"You can look at the worksheets though." Sam rifles through Gabriel's backpack (65% empty candy wrappers, 25% tabloids and paranormal magazines, 6% empty pens and broken pencils, 4% actual school stuff) and finds the folder. It's thick with paper and falling apart. Fortunately though, Gabriel keeps his papers from most recent to least and it seems that it's only for French. The worksheets are blank except for even more doodles; but at least it gives Sam an idea of what he's supposed to be working with.

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to previous addendum:** Gabriel Eliot is a student looking to pass his French class.

It's the fifth time that Sam's been tutoring Gabriel. He's still a little in love but his crush is offset by the more pressing goal to make Gabriel pass his French class. In their last four sessions: Gabriel has established three things about himself:

1\. He's a senior who needs to pass his French class. He needs two years of foreign language credit to graduate and this is his second year. Also, he needs it for college.

2\. He's failing his French class. It's not the sort of understandable "I'm getting a 60% and with some work, I can probably push it to a 65% and get a D" excuse. Gabriel is flat out getting a 26% in his class, which amazes Sam in its extremity.

3\. He's adorably clueless.

He holds up the test that Gabriel had taken a couple days ago.

It's drenched in red. Halfway through it, the teacher had switched from using a red pen to a pencil. There had just been too many mistakes for the pen to correct it all. Gabriel looks at the test with an uncomfortable smile.

"I got really confused."

Sam wonders if he had looked particularly angry and annoyed because Gabriel has got his puppy eyes turned all the way up and it's melting Sam into a puddle of useless, in-love goo. Sam takes a deep breath and armed with pencil, he leans closer to Gabriel and starts explaining how to correct the mistakes.

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to second addendum:** Gabriel Eliot is a class A jerk looking to pass his French class.

Sam quickly goes into the library, hand tightly clutching the strap of his backpack and his face an alarming shade of red. He makes a beeline towards an empty table near the very back of the library and promptly collapses into the seat.

He had just been subjected to eight singing telegrams performed by the school's music honor society and courtesy of an anonymous asshole. There are ten periods in a school day for Sam. The only reason he didn't get ten is because the music honor society doesn't do it when the receiver has gym or lunch. Every time he tries to ask one of the performers who booked the telegrams for him, all Sam gets is either a shrug or a wink. The previous is excusable; the latter convinces Sam more and more that people are assholes. Information should be completely accessible. That's that.

Sam is a laughingstock in all his classes. By the fourth love song, the discreet laughter hadn't really been discreet anymore. The eight balloons he had to lug around the school had gotten him so many looks and so did the eight leis hanging around his neck. Word had gotten around that someone had been sending Dean Winchester's little brother the cheesiest love songs in the history of man. His best friend Jess is a godsend. She had stared down anyone who looked at Sam while her best friend had been on the verge of having a breakdown.

Sam just wants to know who had been enough of a rich douche to subject him to that sort of torture. He makes a list of enemies and wonders to himself if he should add people who hate his older brother, Dean. As a little brother, Sam is used to getting hand-me-downs from Dean including enemies. Dean may have graduated but Sam is still getting shit from what Dean did during his freshman year.

Sam nearly has a heart attack when he hears someone singing "I Want To Know What Love Is" by Foreigner. That performance had been particularly torturous. There had been catcalls and cracks and jeers that "someone is in love with the faggot".

(Jess had given that perpetrator a slap and a kick in the nuts. She had been taken to the principal's office screaming obscenities at him. Sam had swooned. He's pretty positive that if he had been straight, they would've dated.)

He turns and it's Gabriel standing behind him. His backpack is held loosely in his hands and the world's most shit-eating grin plastered on his face. It reminds Sam of sharks.

"Did you like my gifts?" He asks, eyes bright.

Sam opens his mouth to ask "what gift" but then he's hit with a revelation and oh. It's Gabriel. That  _son of a bitch_.

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to third addendum:** Gabriel Eliot is a class A jerk that Sam will pretty much forgive of anything. He's also still looking to pass his French class.

After the singing telegram incident, Sam had refused to talk to Gabriel and had even gone as far as cancelling tutoring sessions with him. Gabriel had tried to ply him with apologies and offerings of chocolate and promises that he'll do anything for Sam.  _Anything at all_. Sam had his heart set on forever avoiding the guy but then Gabriel's eyes had gone wide and shiny and damn it.

Gabriel had looked so pitiful then and he had been on his knees and Sam can not only see the back of his head but also Gabriel's entire back. One part of Sam berates him for being weak, "this guy made your life hell for an entire day"; another part of him preaches forgiveness and "you fucking love Godiva chocolate".

So Sam takes the chocolate and gives him an ultimatum of "don't get involve with my real life; I'm your tutor and that's it". If he had sounded a little reluctant—because the crush is still there and if they ever go out, then Gabriel will have to be a part of his real life.  _But that will never happen_ — Sam's hoping that Gabriel didn't pick up on it.

Gabriel had smiled at him at that and Sam's sure that he did pick up on it. Sam tries to ignore it and he opens the French textbook.

The next day, Sam opens his locker and there are stacks of Godiva chocolate boxes; and it's not the affordable ones that Sam buys every now and then as a treat for himself. It's the Gold Ballotin assortment that costs $150 per box, the kind that Sam looks at and wistfully tells himself that  _one day, when he's rich_. There are four boxes. Inside each one is a heart-shaped piece of paper that says "I'm sorry". He gives one box to Jess and another to his family. His brother goes through half of it in a day.

When he eats one later that night, Sam nearly cries with how divine it tastes.

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to the fourth addendum:** Gabriel Eliot is a forgivable class A jerk that Sam is hopelessly in love with. He's still failing French.

It's nothing special, another one of those moments.

Gabriel is trying to write an essay in French and Sam is left with nothing to do. The only thing he has is a project in AP US History and it's not due until a month from now. Sam believes in doing things in advance but not  _that_ advance. There's hair falling into Gabriel's eyes and all Sam wants to do is reach out and fix it.

The senior scribbles something before scowling and crossing it out. Sam guesses that this paper will be yet another addition to the crumpled rejects surrounding Gabriel.

It has been 12 times since Sam has been tutoring Gabriel and not once has he changed the place that they've sat in since the first time. It's the perfect place. It's not so far back that they look like they're hiding something; but it's far enough that no one will bother them.

What Sam really loves about it though is the window behind them. The sunlight is always there, waiting to play with Gabriel. Gabriel and sunlight is a breathtaking combination. The way it frames his body; lightens up his face; intensifies the gold in his eyes; illuminates his hair. Sam wishes he had an artistic bone in his body. He wants to preserve it, in a painting or a photo or a verse of poetry. He loves Gabriel so dearly.

Sam finds himself cursing the unfairness of being gay. Because he's in love but it's so damn hard to find someone who'll love him back. Sam imagines it must be easier to be straight. You tell someone you're interested in them. They say no and that's that. There's still that chance of hanging out with them.

With Sam, he tells a guy he's interested in them. They tell him they're straight and then they fucking  _avoid_ him, like he's some sort of disease they don't want to be infected with. His sophomore year had sucked a lot. He had come out and news had spread to his entire grade. Then he had found himself in a lonely bubble. No guy wanted to be near him because they had thought he'd make them gay or something, like being gay is something that Sam can transmit. Then there had been the threats, guys pushing him around and calling him faggot; and the weird girls like Ruby who befriended him and told him that she can cure him of being gay. Dean, Jess, and his dad had been his saving grace.

The pencil in Sam's hand snaps in two. Gabriel looks up. "What's wrong, kiddo?"

Sam stares before he quickly shakes his head. Gabriel's eyes linger at him for a moment and then he turns back to his work. Sam wonders if Gabriel knows. Upperclassmen usually didn't care about underclassmen drama, but there might be a chance. If Gabriel knows, Sam's fine with it because Gabriel is still here.

But if he doesn't know—"Gabriel," Sam says suddenly. The senior looks up again with that smile that takes the breath right out of Sam's lungs.

"Yeah?"

Sam wants to ask,  _do you know?_ But if he doesn't know—and then he learns about it—

What if Gabriel starts avoiding him?

Sam looks at that smile again. Its brightness has lessened by a fraction but it's still beautiful to look at. It makes Sam's heart sing. Just being with Gabriel brightens his day. Although the guy does infuriate him at times, the offenses are forgivable. He feels more relaxed around Gabriel; something in Sam loosens when he sees that bright smile and bright eyes. He doesn't want this gone. Ever.

Sam smiles back and if his is forced, Gabriel makes no comment. "Nothing."

"'Kay." Gabriel picks up his pen and starts writing on the paper again.

If this is the best Sam can get—if all Sam can ever do is look but never touch—he'll do all he can to protect this status quo. Because if Gabriel starts avoiding him, Sam is more than sure that he won't be able to take it.

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to the fifth addendum:** Gabriel Eliot is a loveable, forgivable, class A jerk who is really smart, as in ridiculously smart, but Sam will never believe that. He's still trying to pass his French class but at this point, Sam is pretty sure that he never will.

In the 15 times that Sam has tutored Gabriel, he had been pretty set in his idea of Gabriel's intelligence, which is none. A person has to be epically idiotic to be getting a 23% in a French class. So when Gabriel comes into a session carrying a stack of books on quantum physics, differential equations, linear algebra, and advanced applied mathematics, the first thing that Sam blurts out is:

"Who are those books for?"

Gabriel frowns and he glances at the books that are now on the table before looking back at Sam. "Me."

Sam snorts. Gabriel raises an eyebrow and asks, "What?"

Sam's mind splutters in coming up with an excuse, a better way to say,  _because you're too dumb for those_. "I mean—because—because—"

Gabriel's frown deepens and Sam gulps when he sees the hint of anger in it. "Because I'm too stupid for them? Is that it?"

"No. That's not what—"

"Just because I can't understand French, it doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

"Gabriel, that's—"

"Oh, he's getting a 23% in his class. Must be the class idiot."

"Gabriel—"

"I'm sorry not everyone can be as smart as you, Mr. 'I skipped French II and III and went straight to AP French'."

"Gabe—"

"French doesn't matter anyway. Everyone speaks English there."

"Please, Gabriel. That's not—"

But Gabriel has already gotten up and is already halfway out the library. Sam's pleas go unheard. He berates himself for being such an idiot.  _Damn it, Sam Winchester. You utter fuck_. He doesn't know how it got to the point where Gabriel had to walk off, but then he guesses it must've been a bad day for the senior. Gabriel had come into the library ruffled, with deep bags under his eyes and a slight tremor in his hands. Sam should have paid better attention to the details.

He doesn't know how to smooth this situation over. He's never really been one for apologizing. Apologizing in the Winchester household composes of staring at each other meaningfully, nodding after a couple minutes, and then the transgressor taking the bullet for the other the next time. Gabriel Eliot is no Winchester and he's definitely not privy to the freaky Winchester brain waves. Telepathic apologies are a no-go.

He looks to his side and sees the stack of books on the desk.  _Gabriel's_ books. A plan starts to formulate in his mind. He fumbles to take his cell out of his pocket to call Jess.

"What's up, Sam?"

"Can you give me a ride?"

There's a momentary pause before Jess speaks up again. "Yeah. To where?"

"I'll tell you when you get here."

He quickly hangs up and dashes for the nearest student directory in the library reference section. He looks up Eliot, Gabriel and Sam has never realized how many Eliot's there are and have been in the school. He wonders to himself who the hell would name their kid Lucifer (no pun intended) or Balthazar. Why would someone name their child after the devil in the first place?

He spots Gabriel's name and takes note of the address. He grabs his and Gabriel's stuff and goes out into the parking lot. After a couple minutes, Jess's 1992 white Toyota Camry pulls up against the curb and Sam runs. He dumps his backpack and Gabriel's books in the trunk and takes the shotgun seat. Jess gives him a look.

"What the hell is going on, Sam?"

He takes a deep breath. "I fucked things up with Gabriel."

Understanding dawns on her face because she knows. Sam has praised, complained, and bitched about Gabriel to Jess for months. She's his best friend. There's no way she could not know. "Well, what are you gonna do?"

A slight smile appears in Sam's face. "How far is Walmart from here?"

 

* * *

 

Thank god for open windows and trees right next to open windows.

Sam dusts off bits of bark and dead leaves from himself after he lands inside the dark, empty room. Dean may call him a geek but he is as every bit athletic as his brother had been. After making sure that no one is about to go into the room, Sam looks out the window and whispers, "Jess! Jess!"

Jess's head pops up out from behind the hedge hugging the side of the house. "You're treating me for this, Winchester."

Sam sighs dramatically. "I know, I know. Now just throw me the stuff."

Jess pulls out a black bag from somewhere, holds it in both hands, and volleys it towards Sam. It makes it two thirds of the way before dropping back down and landing on the hedge with a crunch. Sam and Jess freeze. Things remain quiet and they let out a collective breath.

Sam sticks his head out the window. "Is that the best you can do?"

Jess glares at him. "Shut up. You try throwing four textbooks and the entire candy aisle of Walmart."

It takes them two more tries before Sam manages to catch it (while leaning dangerously out of the window). He opens the bag and sighs in relief to see that everything is still intact. The Reese's Peanut Butter Cups are slightly smushed though. He looks out the window again. "Thanks, Jess."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. For the record, if you get caught, I don't know you."

"You're the best friend a guy can ever have."

"And you kno-" But Sam doesn't hear the rest as the door opens and lights flood the room. He thinks he might have heard a faint  _oh shit_ from below and the rustling of branches, but he's too occupied with hugging the package as close to himself as possible and trying to disappear into the wall behind him. A man with short blond hair and a five o' clock shadow walks in, followed by:

"Gabriel!" Sam quickly covers his mouth with one of his hands.  _Way too not attract attention to yourself, Sam_.

Gabriel and the other man stare at Sam like he's a particularly hideous alien that just crashed into their home. Blond guy then looks at Gabriel and says, "Gabriel, do you know this kid?"

"He's tutoring me French," Gabriel answers absently as he moves towards Sam. Sam clutches the bag closer to himself. "What are you doing here? And  _what_ is  _that_?"

Sam thrusts the bag into Gabriel's arms, eyes looking at everywhere but Gabriel. "It's your books. You left it at the library." He mutters.

"Thanks." Gabriel says as he takes the bag and Sam hears the sounds of a zipper opening that means Gabriel is checking it. "Hey, there's candy in here!"

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just got as many as I can."

Sam can feel Gabriel staring at him and he's trying as best as he can not to look back. He just can't do it. He doesn't want to see what Gabriel is thinking of him. He feels a light touch on his arm and Sam looks up. Gabriel's eyes are dark and serious. "You didn't have to do this, kiddo."

Sam hesitates before saying, "Yeah, I did. I didn't mean- I don't think you're an idiot."

Gabriel sighs. "Just forget about it, okay? I was having a bad day."

They both turn at the sound of someone clearing their throat. "I'm just gonna leave you two lovebirds alone," Blond Guy says, "Oh and Gabriel, we'll continue our talk later." Gabriel rolls his eyes as the man leaves the room.

Gabriel turns back to Sam. "Sorry about Lucy. He's a pain in the ass."

"Lucy?"

"Lucifer. I don't know why my dad named him Lucifer. He should be called Satan instead." Sam is not sure whether to laugh or take it seriously. Gabriel's face looks a little too serious for it to be just a joke. So wisely, he keeps quiet.

Noticing Sam's silence, Gabriel turns a slight shade of pink. "Sorry about that. Our family is a mess to say the least." He takes a breath. " _Anyway_ , what are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to give you back your books."

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. "By breaking into my house in the middle of the night?" Sam mutters something under his breath. "Sorry, didn't hear that?"

"I wanted to surprise you." Sam says reluctantly.

"With candy?"

"I watch you eat them all the time."

And Gabriel laughs at that, "You been watching me, Sasquatch?"

"No!" Sam says a little too quickly and he knows that Gabriel knows. When Sam looks at Gabriel, there's a strange sort of smile on his face. He tells himself that it's mocking him, but he can't help but think that there might be something more to it. He just can't pinpoint what that extra something is.

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to the sixth addendum:** Gabriel Eliot is a smart kid that Sam might actually have a shot with. He's failing French, but they've forgotten about that by now.

Ever since the near blow out between them, they treaded lightly for a little while. Nowadays though they're back to same form. Also, Gabriel has started bringing his other schoolwork more often to their tutoring sessions.

Gabriel is smart as in "not only did he get into MIT but he also got a full tuition" smart.

Sam's unrequited love—a crush is too childish for his feelings by now—had only increased. Gabriel is not only a pretty face to look at but he's intelligent. Sam finds himself blushing when he starts speaking physics. Or math. There's something just… attractive when he talks about the probability theory or combinatorics or the quantum harmonic oscillator. The way Gabriel's lips form around the vowels. The way his eyes light up. The way his hands move like a pair of excited birds. Sam is sure that Gabriel knows that he doesn't understand a word that he's saying, but the way Gabriel gets so excited just  _talking_  about it to  _someone_. It's mesmerizing.

(For the record, Sam Winchester totally did not get an erection that one time.)

Gabriel has also been touching Sam a great deal nowadays, a brush of their hands, a hand on the arm, a hand on the back of Sam's neck, a quick but unexpected their eyes meet, Sam sees something in them. Sam has seen that look before. He's not sure where or what.

He doesn't know what to make of it.

 

* * *

 

**Side note:** Sam Winchester knows a lot of things but he can be awfully stupid about certain things.

It's a lazy Thursday afternoon. It's not quite the weekend yet, but Sam and Jess have got nothing to do. There's no homework, a nice reprieve since they've all just been through the AP exams. Surprisingly, it's not as hard as Sam thought they would have been.

They've popped  _Spiderman_ into the dvd player and they're watching Peter Parker figure out how to use his powers. Jess has Sam's head on her lap and she's playing with his hair. As her slight fingers work through his scalp, he finds his eyelids falling close. Jess jostles him awake by shaking her knee.

"What?" He asks, irritated. He wants to sleep so badly.

"Are you ever gonna do anything with Gabriel?"

And that's got him awake faster than he can say  _what are you talking about?_ "Do what?"

Jess rolls her eyes. "Come on, your big crush. You're seriously not just gonna sit there and pine forever, are you?"

Sam's mouth thins. Jess's mouth falls open. "I swear to god, Winchester, sometimes I think you're just one depressing romance novel."

"Well, what do you want me to say? 'Gabriel, I'm sure you're straight but I've got a big-ass gay crush on you. Do you wanna go out with me?'"

Jess nods her head enthusiastically. "Yep, just like that."

"You  _can't_ be serious."

"Oh, I  _am_."

"He's gonna run and I'll never see him again."

"There it is again. You're so quick to come to conclusions."

"Prove me wrong then. Every time I've tried to ask a guy out in school, surprise, surprise, they're straighter than an arrow. Then they avoid me."

"The evidence is against us, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try."

"No."

"Just take a chance, Sam. He could prove you wrong."

"No and that's final."

Jess pauses a second before speaking up again. "I'll tell him you got a boner when he talked about quantum gravity."

Sam looks up at her, mouth open in shock. "That's called treason."

"It's called an 'incentive'."

"Blackmail."

" _Encouragement_."

"I still won't do it."

"Fine. I'll tell him."

"You can't."

"Yes, I  _can_. Sam, you have to realize, that if I can punch someone in the nuts for calling you the f word without a moment's hesitation, this is nothing to me."

Sam gives her a look before he makes a bitchface and grumbles under his breath. "I hate you."

"I love you too, babycakes."

 

* * *

 

**Addendum to the seventh addendum:** Gabriel Eliot is everything Sam wants; and if Sam messes up this confession, there's no going back.

The day is nothing exceptional. Same boring classes. Same crappy cafeteria food. It had ended as unexceptional as it had started.

Sam is waiting for Gabriel in the library. Gabriel had asked to meet up with him, which is a little strange because they usually never have a tutoring session on a Thursday. It probably has something to do with the still failing French grade, but Sam's not quite sure. Gabriel had looked sort of flustered that morning.

His palms are sweating buckets because he's also due to bare all his heart to Gabriel when they meet. Jess had made him swear that he's going to confess to Gabriel the next time they have a tutoring session. Which is today. She's off sitting in the graphic novels section, keeping an eye on Sam and making sure he follows through with his promise.

Sam spots Gabriel coming into the library and his feet itch with the need to run away. The closer Gabriel gets, the more Sam wants to throw up. He fears that he might actually throw up the moment Gabriel comes up to him. Sam can't do this. He  _can't_. And he's getting out of his chair when Gabriel stops in front of him.

"Sam." He looks strangely serious and Sam doesn't know what to do with that.

"Gabriel."  _Don't throw up_.

"Can we go somewhere more private? I have something to tell you."

Sam nods. He can't even open his mouth. Gabriel grabs his arm and leads him into the nonfiction section where no one ever goes in. He's not quite sure what's going on, but then, all he can talk about is that he really needs to get over this confession thing and prepare to get rejected.

Gabriel is walking back and forth, quietly muttering to himself. Sam clears his throat. "Gabriel, I—"

But Gabriel comes up to him all of sudden to cover his mouth with a hand. It smells like hand sanitizer. "Don't. Don't say anything. Not before me because if you say anything now, I think I might explode. Got it?" Sam nods. Gabriel takes off his hand. "Lines—lines are like people, Sam."

Sam raises an eyebrow. He doesn't know where this going and frankly, Gabriel sort of sounds like he's missing a couple marbles there. He continues. "There are parallel lines. They're the same. They have a lot of things in common, but they never meet."

"Then there are the other lines. Like perpendicular. They meet once but they drift apart and they never see each other again. We're like that. We're like that right now, but I don't want that. I  _don't_ want us to drift apart."

Sam's heart is beating like a jackrabbit.

"I want us to be a pair of sine and cosine waves. They intersect with increasing frequency until they intersect continuously. And it's forever. They intersect forever." He looks straight into Sam's eyes, his eyes bright and intense and a little bit unsure. That question from weeks ago—when Sam had looked into Gabriel's eyes and told himself that he'd seen that look before, he just didn't know when and where—it makes sense now. Sam has seen that look before. It's in a mirror, when he thinks about Gabriel and he catches his reflection.

"Sam," Gabriel touches his face, "Can you be that? Can you be the sine to my cosine?"

Sam's knees feel weak, like his joints are about to roll off from him. His head feels light and empty. He manages to force out one word, " _Why?_ "

Gabriel lets out a laugh. It sounds surreal and beautiful. He looks back at Sam with warm eyes when he finishes. "A year ago. You were a sophomore. I was in your science class."

Sam wracks his mind for the class, Honors Biology. He doesn't remember Gabriel though. All he can think are a bunch of douchebag guys who always sacked his backpack when he went to the bathroom and coughed out the word 'faggot' every time they walked by him. There had been no Gabriel then.

Gabriel continues. "I was a lab assistant then. I was there when you guys had lab."

And Sam does remember this time. He remembers a guy with thick black glasses and fire truck red hair, measuring out liquids and setting out the pipettes and beakers that the classes needed. "You had glasses and red hair."

Gabriel nods and his smile widens. "I lost a dare that year and my mom made me get contacts."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I remember you from there. You barely said anything and you always had your nose in a book. All the boys called you names and I wanted to kill them." Gabriel says, "You looked so sad and I always told myself that someone should make you smile. Because that look on your face, kiddo? It was killing a bunch of unicorns."

Sam smiles at that. He's dreaming. This can't possibly be happening to him right now.

"Then a girl came to your class one day. You two were talking and she said something that made you smile. It was beautiful, Sam. I dropped a beaker, you know. All I thought was that you should always look like that. Someone should always make you smile like that and I wanted to be that someone. I was going to talk to you, but you dropped the class and I never caught your name."

"So that's why, Sam." He looks at Sam hopefully, "Will you go out with me?"

Yes.  _Yes._

_  
_

* * *

 

**Conclusion:** Gabriel Eliot is in love with Sam Winchester.

**Addendum to conclusion:**  And Sam Winchester is in love with Gabriel.


End file.
